Chapter 1: Taunts

“Come in MOM, respond please! MAYDAY MAYDAY, calling MOM.”

MOM responded and they’re turning around. We will see them in about four years, if we survive. We may see them even if we are no longer human enough to appreciate them.

John and I use to be playmates before he changed. Even before the change he was derisive of the elders. Gruncle Iron and the Aunts are borg, he claimed. Hybrid human mechanical creatures. Well, if cyborg bodies make a borg, I suppose he’s correct, but that doesn’t mean they have a hive mind. The evil borg in the TV series had a hive mind. Slaves to their queen’s will. I don’t believe anyone is a mindless slave to Gruncle Iron.

“Come Rod! Thaw me out, or pass the message to Momma to thaw me out.”

Rod should hear me. I could hear and see Flotsam when I was little and Flotsam was OOB. Rod and I tested communications and the test proved he could hear me when I was OOB. Why isn’t he responding?

At most, I’ll be stuck in here for three days. The cryo-pod was automatically timed to thaw me after thirty-six hours, just in case mom and rod were captured or driven away.

No excuse for not answering me. There is one excuse for not answering me, I don’t want to consider. Actually, besides dead, Rod could merely be asleep, unconscious, or somebody stuffed him in cryo-stasis too. Only mom would do that, or would only consider doing that, if she needed to draw the Leafies away from the pods.

Worry isn’t good. Useless. Waiting is all I can do and there is no alternative. Or is there? Can I wander about as a OOB spirit? Hw would I do that? Concentrate on joining Rod.

Well, Rod is in cryo-stasis, and maybe that is a good thing. Concentrate on joining mom. Difficult. I can sense her but not join her. I sense her fear. Obviously, she senses danger and fears it.

Twenty more hours before I’m thawed out.

“Flotsam? Can you still hear me?”

“Yes Brenda. We are turning around but it takes awhile at this speed.”

“My mom is in danger. I’m stuck in my cryo-pod. Is there anything I can do while OOB to see her or see what her situation is?”

“Not recommended trying to wander off. Legend says if you suceed in wandering off, you may never find your way back again.”

“Well, that sounds like there is a way to wander off, or they wouldn’t caution against it.”

“Sounds reasonable.”

“Rob is that you thawing me out?”

“Yep, it’s me sis. Mom hid me in cryo for a few hours, while she ran away taunting the Leafies to chase her. Iv just thawed myself.”

“Thanks for the information, Flotsam. Things will soon be alright I hope and we will still be human when you get here four years from now.”

“Good luck, Brenda.”

After I thawed and sensation finally returned to my legs and feet so I can walk, Rod and I began scouting for mom.

We didn’t get far before we encountered two Leafies, perhaps they’re standing guard. They have changed so much, I can’t identify them as children I once knew.

Momma. Mom is trussed up with grape vines, and is a prisoner of the two Leafies.

“I’ll distract them, hopefully they’ll chase me, and you free Momma.”

“I’m faster running than you Brenda. How about you free Momma while I lead the Leafies on a wild goose chase?”

“Where shall we meet up?”

“At the rock pool we used to paddle around in when we were kids.”

“We are still kids.”

“Doesn’t feel like we’re kids anymore.”

“You’re right, it doesn’t.”

“I’ll sneak around behind them and chuck rocks at them. When you see your chance, rescue mom.”

“Be careful, Rod. Don’t get captured. Gon’t want to trade you for Momma.”

“See you later at the wading pool.”

Rod hugged me quickly and melted away among the vines now choking the island.

The ploy worked, Momma was freed, and a couple hours later, the three of us were together again at the natural depression kiddie pool we used to play in.

“MOM, Flotsam aboard MOM answered me. They’re turning around and coming to rescue us.”

“That’s good news, dear. We just have to avoid capture for four years.” Mom is not cheerful or optimistic.

“Maybe we can build a raft and leave here for a different island?”

“Doesn’t sound practical.”

“Neither does trying to remain hidden for four years sound practical.”

Rod is correct, and Mamma’s pessimism is well founded. W have to think of something.

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Yob